Page 134 of Need You Now

The next afternoon, Sal uncorks a bottle of wine and then hands it over to Alabama. With flourish, Alabama pulls a stack of red Solo cups from a cabinet and then a box of long matches from a drawer.

Lacey takes a seat across from Sal at the round breakfast bar, watching as the women work in sync. Something that, only months ago, would have had her jealous or protective but now only has her curious. “What’s happening?”

Beside her, Emmy Lou doesn’t look up from her puzzle. Her pink mouth purses. “We’re doin’ a bonfire, sugar.”

“On the patio,” Sal amends.

“Firepit,” Alabama adds.

“Tradition,” Luke drawls as he sweeps into the kitchen, guitar in his hand. He dips to press a kiss to Sal’s temple. “Sing some tunes. Drink some drinks. Make some fire.”

“Please, Lord, Luke, do not burn this cabin down,” Emmy Lou murmurs. “I am minutes away from this kickin’ this puzzle’s ass.” With a victorious squeal, she snatches up her needed puzzle piece.

A wild cackle. Seth appears, fiddle case in hand. Leaning into her, he runs a smooth hand down the back of her long antique-white eyelet dress. With small buttons down the front and tight sleeves, it’s a dress as romantic as she feels. “Hey, good-lookin’,” he murmurs against her ear.

“Hey, yourself,” Lacey says, twisting into his golden touch.

“Another million-dollar outfit?”

She flashes a smile. “You know it.”

Seth kisses her lazily, like they’ve been at it all afternoon, then pulls back to look at her. “You gonna stick around for the show?” he asks, his eyes lasered on hers.

“Guess I could make an appearance,” she teases. She scans his face. There’s something strange in his eyes. An eagerness, an earnestness she’s never seen before.

Seth laughs and kisses her once more before loping off toward his brother.

Lacey leans back on the barstool. She swerves her eyes around the cabin, taking in everything before her. The afternoon sun sinking behind the mountains. The men tuning instruments, trading ball-busting banter as they prep for their jam session. The room’s warm with fire, with friendship. Everything so perfect. She’s never felt so lucky.

Her mugger’s been caught. There’s so much relief in knowing he’s off the streets. A strength in knowing that if she survived that, she can survive anything. And in another week, it’ll be a new year. A new chapter, transformative, just like Lacey herself.

Beneath heavy lashes, she steals a look at Seth. Her heart thunders as she glimpses his handsome, boyish face. He wears his black Henley from LA, his blue eyes as crystal as the ocean. Lacey flushes. Ugh, she feels like a frazzled mess of lovesick blues. She laughs softly to herself. God, she’s turning into a bad country song. But her heart warms at the thought. Warms at what he’s done for her.

Lacey reaches up to finger her locket.

He’d never take credit, of course, but Seth, not the cops, caught her mugger. If he hadn’t tracked down her necklace at that pawnshop, it never would have happened. She has him to thank.

“You okay, Em?” Sal’s husky voice jolts Lacey from her reverie.

Lacey turns from Seth to look at Emmy Lou. The sunny blond’s scanning the room, her pretty face creased in irritation.

“Oh, you know. Just lookin’ for Jace.” Emmy Lou scowls, her tone bitter. “Other than my husband bein’ on the phone the entire damn day, everything’s just peachy.”

Sal’s jaw drops.

Lacey slides her eyes to Alabama’s, Her own surprise reflected in the redhead’s gray depths. It’s the first time she’s ever seen Emmy Lou drop her prim and proper facade. An admission of the trouble brewing under the picture-perfect surface.

Emmy Lou scowls, a puzzle piece strangled in her hand. Her voice a hushed whisper. “I swear, if he’s steppin’ out on me with some hillbilly harlot, I’m gonna ...” She lets out a frustrated growl, but Lacey sees the pain on her face. The worry.

Sal rushes to reassure, placing her small hand over Emmy Lou’s. “Oh, Em. Jace would never.”

Alabama tuts. “I’m sure that isn’t it.”

Lacey knows it isn’t.

Yesterday, Seth had confided in her about his and Jace’s conversation. Still, despite knowing the facts, she’d never say anything to Emmy Lou. That’s Jace’s business. She can only hope he owns up to whatever he’s gotten himself into. Otherwise, Emmy Lou looks on the verge of taking a frying pan to her husband’s face.

Before any of the women can say anything further, a ping from Lacey’s phone.

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